Rotting Coins
by Insert Badass Name
Summary: It all started with a sneeze. No one had noticed North Italy sneeze during the meeting except for South Italy. The elder felt something inside him. It was a feeling, a feeling he hated. Worry. Rated for Romano's language and some death.
1. Heartmoniter

It all started with a sneeze.

No one noticed at first. North Italy kept on being his optimistic self while he bounced around and made pasta. Italy smiled his bright smiles and yelled his thoughts everywhere for everyone to hear. Germany, as usual, face palmed and muttered curses under his breath while Japan kept most of his poker face on with barely a hint of a smile. Everyone seemed to act normal and everything seemed to be normal, until one thing happened.

North Italy sneezed.

It was loud, but no one else seemed to notice, not even Germany or Japan. Everyone was focusing on their own arguments and mishaps.

Only South Italy noticed his brother's sneeze.

He looked across the table and at his brother while wearing his usual scowl. Italy seemed to be fine, but the sneeze had snagged a feeling. An unwanted feeling. **Worry**. Nations couldn't get sick the human way; they could only become sick when something happened to their nation. South Italy pushed down the worry and his scowl became fiercer.

Their boss hadn't reported anything out of the ordinary. Italy was fine. It was only a sneeze.

Oh, how wrong Romano was.

A week after North Italy had sneezed, Italy had developed a mild fever. It wasn't enough to keep North Italy in bed, but it was enough to make South Italy's worry grow. He asked his younger brother if he was feeling ill or if he felt a bit nauseous. North Italy smiled at him and giggled a bit.

"Oh Fratello*, I feel fine! No need to worry about me, ve~" But Romano still couldn't throw the feeling away, even after North Italy assured him that he was fine. Something felt terribly, terribly wrong.

"Oi, but take it easy, idiota**. No need to hurt yourself by thinking too much."

"Okay Fratello~!"

! #$^&*()_+%

"YOU MEAN TO TELL ME THAT MY BROTHER'S IN A COMA?!" screeched Romano as the doctor calmly told him the news. It had been three days since North Italy had developed a fever and it had seemed to dissapear by the second day, but it came back at full force by the third. It was enough to knock him out cold, the doctor had said. It didn't help that he had been walking (Heh, more like running) down the stairs when it had hit him. The nation had hit his head multiple times and a few other vital places during his fall. The doctor said that he wasn't responding to anything that the doctors did.

"Yes. Your brother is in a coma and he doesn't show any signs of waking up." How blunt the doctor was. He didn't sugar-coat the words and didn't try to comfort Romano. It only made the nation even more irritated and angry.

"Are you SURE that you have tried everything?!"

"Yes." Romano glared at the little man before sighing in defeat.

"May I go to see my brother now?" The doctor nodded and Romano was gone in a flash.

His footsteps echoed throughout the hallway as he approached his brother's room. Room 341. The door was slightly open and it seemed to emit a feeling of dread and despair. Romano peeked inside the room, but only saw a worn-out lamp on a simple stool. The room was dimly lit by said lamp.

Romano pushed the door open and saw his brother on a white bed. The room looked like it belonged in a mental hospital, or something like that. It was sterile and lacked many things. There were no extra stools other than the ones that kept the lamp and machinary up. There were no curtains or chairs in there. The colors were only white and gray, excluding the light blue dress that his brother wore.

**North Italy**.

Romano looked at his brother and the machinery that was attached to him. Slow 'beeps' were the only thing that filled the silence in the room and South Italy didn't like it. It didn't belong in the same room with his brother, the one who always talked loudly and never stopped talking even when asked to.

The nation didn't know how it happened. Everything had been fine in Italy, nothing had disrupted the clockwork in it, or Romano would have been alerted immediatly.

So why was North Italy on a white bed and in a coma?

!$# %^%$# !

Romano had visited Italy every day for six days. He had seen Germany and Japan in there a couple of times, but they never talked to him other than saying 'hello'. Spain had tried to come with him this time, but with after a few insults, he made a reluctant retreat. His boss had told him that he was going to tell him today what was going on after he had visited North Italy.

The elder nation looked at the younger as he 'slept' peacefully. The soft 'beeps' still echoed around the room like it had been doing so since he found out what had happened. But, unlike the first day, the whole room wasn't just white and gray and light blue; it was now an assortment of colors. Cards littered the little desk that the nurses had brought to him. Balloons were on the ceiling. A box of cupcakes was strangely in the corner of the room. A silver cross was stapled onto the wall.

In short, it was a mess.

South Italy scowled and walked out. He couldn't stay in there for a moment longer. It was too colorful and it made the room look cheery. His scowl became darker when he saw the short doctor talking to one of the nurses. Romano really doubted that the doctor had really tried to revive Feliciano since he had seemed to be too lazy and bored when he had walked out of North Italy's room.

The nurse saw Romano scowling at them and shrunk back a little while the doctor hadn't even glanced at him. The nation glared at them one last time before walking out of the hospital.

It was time he went to see his boss.

The ride to his boss' office was a lot less than enjoyable than it should have been. Granted, he was pissed off and depressed, but the asshole that had decided to 'bump' into his car put him in a fouller mood. Romano was now standing in front of his boss' door and was waiting impatiently for the man _to get the hell out_. The nation had knocked on his door for more than 5 times and each time he had knocked, it was responded with a 'just a second!'

Romano was contemplating on just knocking the door down, but that would be impolite and disrespectful. It wasn't like he gave a shit, but it was his** boss**.

That said boss slammed open the door and forcibly pulled him inside. The nation gave a startled yelp and shook the man off while his boss slammed the door close and gave him an apologetic smile. Romano glared at him a glare that screamed _'why the hell did you do that?!_'

"Safety reasons," he said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. Romano said nothing as he was led to a chair in front of the desk that was in the middle of the room. His boss sat across from him, his face grim.

"Now, I bet you're wondering why North Italy is in such a state." _No, I'm wondering how I'm going to take over the world_.

"It has to do with his economy... and you, somewhat." Romano froze.

"What?! Are you suggesting that **I** did this to him?!"

"No, no! It's not about you-**you**, but about his economy***! You attract many people in with your good economy. You see, North Italy's economy in some of the really big cities have plummeted to where they can't repair any damages done to the city itself. There is so little tourism that not many people buy anything from the shops, so the shopkeepers and their families have to move to either another place or move down into South Italy, where the economy is stronger. Soon, all the people who don't have shops or anything of the like have to move because they can't afford the payment of the food and housing. There is so much vandalism that the city can't pay to fix it, so even less tourism occurs in the city."

"But why aren't I like my brother? On a hospital bed?"

"Your economy is so strong because of the tourism and farming. Your part of the country is the second best at farming tomatoes and other goods while North Italy doesn't have the right terrain to farm. Only mountains."

"So? Have any ideas of how to solve this mess?" His boss hesitated.

"Well... there **is** one way to solve this... it's the easiest and most productive one... but it has-"

"I don't care," Romano interrupted," Just tell me it and **do it**."

"You could... take over his economy for a while? Share your part of the country's profits with his?"

"Then I will do it." And with that, South Italy walked out of the room, ignoring his boss' protests.

! $$%# #

It had been a week since the boss had declared that South Italy was going to control his Northern counterpart's economy. Confusion and dread spread among the common people like the plague had done so many years ago. The Southern Italians had asked _'Why does South Italy have to control North Italy's economy? They have Rome, our capital! They shouldn't need assistance!'_ while half of the Northern Italians had thought _'Now, our lives will get better!' _Some of the nations worldwide had wondered why the Italians had done something so daring like that. They knew there was a big possibility that South Italy's economy would crumble as well as North Italy's if South Italy couldn't take the strain. After all, this was a very new thing to him and, unlike the most of the other countries, he had gained a lot of responsibility at once rather than easing it on him.

It made things very awkward at the meeting. Well, for Romano, at least.

Upon walking into the room, China had glanced at him and muttered something about maturing countries.

When he had walked foward and toward his seat, he caught some of the elder countries staring at him. He made sure to glare at them.

When he sat down, he was instantly greeted by Spain, but Spain was missing the usual spark in his eyes.

At lunch break, the US of A had laughed and told him that he was sorry that he couldn't be the 'hero' and help him with their economy. He had scowled at the cheeky nation, but America didn't notice.

At the end of the meeting, Russia had come up to him and gave him an offer 'he couldn't refuse'. South Italy responded by politely declining and running out of the meeting room, barely keeping in his screams. He had heard Russia 'kolling' behind him.

And now, Romano was sitting at the edge of Northern Italy's bed. He stared at the silver cross across the room while thinking about the meeting. He was so used to the soft 'beeps', that he didn't really notice them. They sort of faded into the background like the cards and balloons and the box of cupcakes. The only thing that popped out anymore was the silver cross across the room.

Suddenly, South Italy felt something new inside of him. It felt like it was buzzing around in his chest and expanding. It spread into his arms, his legs, and most importantly, his head. It wasn't a bad feeling, but it wasn't a good one either. The buzzing increased and he felt his body shaking at the force. Romano couldn't move his hands or his arms and his legs were frozen in place.

His economy had started to share with North Italy's.

And then his vision switched off.

He heard a muffled scream come from someone. Then, he realized it was his own. He felt like someone was cutting open his chest and taking a piece. It felt like someone was just sewing it back together crudely and not replace the piece that he had needed. It felt like he was bleeding inside out.

His vision turned back on.

Romano was lying on the floor, next to the bed. Nothing had changed, except for the fact that he was on the floor. He then noticed that the soft beeps had turned into stronger ones. Louder ones. _The transaction has suceeded. North Italy was stabler._ South Italy propped an arm beneath him and pushed himself into a sitting position. He glared at the bed before he turned his glare to the one standing on the other side of the bed. It was Feliciano's doctor.

"My, my, that was quite an episode. Are you okay?" Romano scowled darkly at the doctor before saying," It's none of your buisness, bastardo."

"It** is** my buisness. I'm a doctor."_ Not a good one, though._

"I'm fine. How's Feliciano doing?"

"Very good. His heart rate has increased and he's breathing on his own. It looks like he's going to be waking up soon. My only concern is that he's a bit too pale."

Romano stood up shakily and leaned heavily on his brother's bed. He looked at his brother's face as his heart beats became louder and louder.

Feliciano opened his eyes for the first time in three weeks and two days. His golden eyes were glazed over, but active nethertheless. He looked over at Romano with an unindentifiable expression on his face. His curl wilted and became just a stray strand of hair on his face.

Romano then realized that it was a bit too late. His brother held the expression that many wounded soldiers had held before they passed away.

"There can only be one Italy," he whispered. Feliciano's eyes glazed over completely. The transaction of money and supplies wasn't enough.

_And it all started with a sneeze._

#$%^$$ ! #$%

Oh... God... WHAT HAVE I MADE?!

What about Prussia and Germany?

Noooooo...

Anyway, that's an angst fic. Right there. In front of your face. I spent three hours on this, not including the time I spent editing.

*Fratello=Brother

**Idiota=Idiot

***The economy in some cities (like Novara, Italy) has gone bad because of crime, vandalism, and lack of tourism.

I do not own Hetalia or anything of the sort.

Please review~!


	2. Forgetting to Remember

**Oh.. my... GOD! ThankyouthankyouthankyouTHANKYOU!**

**Two reviews. Three favorites. Thank you~!**

!# $%#$%

**_No, NO! Nations can't die without the whole country being dissolved!_**

_What if this was what North Italy was talking about? There can be only one..._

**_Nonsense! He was just speaking bullshit!_**

_Careful Romano; you may become delusional~!_

! ^%&%^$

Romano had been feeling ill after his brother had died. As much as he wanted to deny it, his brother was dead.

There were three painfully obvious pieces of evidence.

Romano had heard the heart monitor stop beeping himself

He had also seen every nation actually recognize him as Italy and not just 'South Italy'

Romano had started to feel his brother's burdens, but in a weaker version.

Romano now realized that no one remembered his brother. He had asked every country if they remembered North Italy, but they would always give him a puzzled expression and ask if he was 'fine' or 'okay'. The nation had even asked his boss.

No one remembered, except for South Italy.

It was puzzling why no one remembered his brother, the one who was the second most recognizable nation in the world before he died. Not even Germany remembered, even though he had a ghost of recognition in the beginning. Of course, being the stubborn idiot that he was, he dismissed it and told Romano that he had never heard of Feliciano.

He felt himself forgetting as well. It was a nagging feeling in the back of his head that distracted him whenever he was thinking about his dead brother. It sounded like the churchbells that had rung when the plague had first struck.

Ding, Dong, Ding Dong...

Romano finally snapped out of his thoughts when he heard his front door bell ring. He hauled himself off of the sofa and dragged himself over to the door. Taking a peek through the spy-hole, he saw Spain on the other side. The younger nation took off the lock that was on his door and cracked it open a bit. He glowered at the Spainiard.

"What do you want, bastardo?" He growled out as Spain smiled back at him.

"Hola Italy! Some of my amigos have told me that you have been acting strange, so I brought some tomato soup to solve the problem~!" South Italy stared at the thermos in Spain's hands for a moment before allowing him to enter his domain. Spain skipped in and hummed a little tune as he entered and sat on the sofa that Romano had previously sat on. His friend opened up the thermos and the delicious scent of tomatoes filled the room. The Spaniard took a plastic spoon from the side of the container and handed the thermos and spoon to Romano. The Italian took it and began to gulp it down.

"Italy! Stop drinking it so fast; you'll burn your mouth!" Romano didn't give a shit.

"Wow, something really is wrong with you! I haven't seen you be this reckless since you were a little tomato!" Romano paused at this and gave Spain a confused glance. _Okay... He's never said THAT before..._

"What are you talking about, tomato bastard? I've always done this before. I've always been reckless." The elder nation stared at him for a moment before shaking his head.

"You must really be sick. Don't you remember? You've always done your chores and only fought when you had to. You're not reckless," he said before giving the Italian a bright smile," I'll be in the kitchen making more tomato soup. Don't burn yourself por favor." And with that, he skipped out of the room to make more of the soup, leaving a confused Italian behind him.

_Chores? I've never done any chores before... Except for that one time, but I barely cleaned up anything... Maybe... No, NO, it can't be possible! My brother can't be erased from history! Almost a million people have known about him.** He's** North Italy. I'm not-_

"Romano~! Soup's ready~!" _How the hell did he make it so fast?!_

"I'm coming bastardo!" Romano stood up and walked into the kitchen. Two pots of tomato soup sat on the stove while a bowl sat on the counter. The same plastic spoon sat next to it. The nation sat down and started eating the soup while ignoring the Spaniard behind him. Spain frowned at his tomato's actions. Italy still liked his soup, but he was acting very odd; he wasn't acting cheery.

"Romano... are you okay?" The Italian gulped down some more soup before responding.

"Yeah, why are ya asking, bastard?" Spain hesitated.

"Well... you're not acting like yourself. Where's that cheery tomato I know and love?"

"Feliciano's the cheery tomato," Romano muttered before slurping up some more soup. Spain's frown deepened.

"Romano, we went over this. There is no North Italy. YOU are the only Italy around here." Romano glared at the Spaniard.

"Feli does exist. Well, he used to, he died. But he did exist! I'm South Italy, he's North Italy!"

"Stop being delusional. You're the only Italy I have ever seen."

Romano dropped the subject.

$%^&E$^$

No one remembers him. He had confirmed it a few days ago. Even Romano was beginning to forget. There were big holes in his memories, the ones he knew were the most important. South Italy didn't remember his voice or his personality, but he knew that North Italy looked similar to him. He kept on repeating _'North Italy existed, he's my brother, I'm South Italy._' But no matter what he thought or said, he still felt the memories slip out of his grasp.

A hazy image of a boy with a bright smile was all that he remembered.

Remember.

REMEMBER.

But he could not. Romano began to refer himself as Italy to keep Spain from putting him in the nuthouse. All the nations relaxed and were beginning to warm up to him.

South Italy wanted to throw an insult at each and every one of them, but found out that he didn't have the heart to do it. He had been horrified when he said a 've' at the end of a sentence and stopped talking for a week.

The worst part was that he **knew**. Romano knew what was happening to him, to the world. It had taken him a while to figure it out, but in the end, it was quite clear. Even a blind man could see it (Roma wanted to slap himself for the pun).

North Italy was literally combining himself with his older brother.

The 've', the sudden urge to talk a lot, the inability to say an insult, everyone forgetting. South Italy doubted that there even was a 'North' and 'South.'

**_Remember._**

_No. There is no North Italy._

$%^&&%$ %

**Two chapters down, one to go! **

**I've been thinking, how does the nations going to a different planet to search for other countries sound? Is it a good plot? **

**If anyone asks for it, I'll do it.**

**Can you please review? I'll give you Romano's secret weapon!**

**'I do not own Hetalia'**


	3. Gravestones

Italy skipped happily along the road as he went towards the meeting building. His tan outfit shone among the dull colors of December. There was no snow in sight, but there was frost everywhere. Romano's breath spiraled upward as he smiled happily. He was by an old cemetery with his amigo, Spain. The Spaniard was inside a large, poofy coat and was shivering, but he still held his traditional smile.

Romano saw something interesting in the corner of his eye. It was a large grave with flowers sprouting along the edges. Unlike the other graves, it didn't feel haunted, but it felt warm and welcoming.

"Lovi? Are you okay? Why did you stop walking?" asked Spain. The Italian shook his head and smiled brightly.

"Ah, it's nothing! I was just admiring the poppies surrounding that grave!" Spain raised his eyebrow when he saw the grave Romano was looking at.

"Um... Roma, there aren't any plants even near that grave! Plus, flowers don't wake up until Spring. Are you becoming delusional again...?"

"Oh, come on! You can totally see them!"

"No, I can't. Lets get out of this cold before it starts messing with your head more than it already has!" Spain grabbed Italy's hand and started hauling him toward the building. Romano glanced at the gravestone's name.

_Feliciano Vargas_

_"I will always remember you" -Your Beloved Brother_

Romano frowned in confusion. That name sounded oddly familiar. He shook his head and entered the building with his friend dragging him in.

He never saw the pigeon on the headstone cooing sadly at him.

_Italy_

_**THE END**_

**Welp, I hope you liked it!**

**'I do not own Hetalia'**


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